ION is a unique game in the sense that it can be historically accurate or completely off the wall crazy with its back story. Yeti's, The Pope, Evil Corporations, a non-surrendering French, people coming back from the grave, and alternate histories is what makes the game so unique.

This is the thread where you can expect to see the backstory of this years ION being written right in front of your eyes. The key is to try and remember the details, and keep your eyes peeled at ION. Because a lot of the things written here might have some truth to them, where as others who write simply want to throw their 2 cents in. Which is great! By all means please do so.

The stories that some people come up with are incredible. So by all means keep it going, and if you have questions please don't hesitate to ask.

On a more game related note, The French as a people will be posting here from time to time with stories and information that may, or may not help your side to victory this year. So keep an eye on here. It's only going to get more interesting with time. I can promise you that!

While in command of the German Armies Reichsmarshall Goose (Goose) was heavily involved with the occult. He believed that Hitler was possessed by a demon and studied it closely. He appointed a handful of trusted scientists to "dig" deeper into the psyche to truly understand death and life. To the point of believing in the "Death Bell", a bell that could raise the dead. While preparing for the pending attack on Berlin these very scientists uncovered what they now know was indeed the bell.

As the attacks on Berlin started, a single shot rang out and (Goose) went down. To this day no party has claimed to have taken this shot. Fearing a gruesome retaliation and wishing to help himself in some ways he (General Grazi) orchestrated a daring theft of the body. He succeeded and whisked the dieing body back to France, back to his (Goose) people.

Demonica Heart, the lead scientist, was devastated by what happened and demanded to ring the bell. Her young assistant, Donald Darkov, urged her to not. "We do not know its power" he decried.

Demonica locked him in the animal testing cages and ran to the body..tears running down her face she cried and whispered "Come back to me, please..we..I..need you".

BONNGGG BONNGGGG BOONNGGG

She rang the bell and a cold wind stirred.Lightning crashed all around as the body rose from the table. Not quite dead and not quite alive he (Goose) had a foot in both worlds.

The Bell you see is meant to rang only in the presence of the dead. Demonica had failed to realize this and set forth a plague onto this plane...the Mad Hatter arose.

Escaping from deaths cold grip left Goose quite different, changed, stronger...weirder. However the Bell was not meant for mortal ears and both Demonica and Donald suffered the same fate.

The trio set forth to "live" for themselves until they we were reminded of General Grazi's heroic efforts so they pledged a vow of protection to France for as long as Grazi is alive only his death can break the blood oath.

Now keep in mind that the trio from time to time have moments of clarity and were after all High Ranking German Officials and Officers...but death can change that perspective.Beware us and be aware of us. Spot the personality traits and you will reap great rewards. Mistake whom is with you and reap what you sow.

Now you may be asking yourself...who is that darn cat. That is Chester and well we are unsure if he was even in country when the bell rang. He was never quite right, but a hell of a cook and bar tender. Always playing games you never know what he will do next. Even we can not control him...

The sunlight cut through the curtains of the dimly lit room. Small particles of dust floated with through the dagger of light and seemingly settled on the area that the lite landed on, a naked calf of a female leg that was partially wrapped with bed sheets. The room lay quiet a few more moments before a weary and tired man moved a few inches. He slowly rose and sat on the edge of the bed. Its 1937, and Anderson has been in Paris for a few months now. His affairs in order before he left his home, he quickly picked up an accent and a good feel for the language, this would aide him in his mission. The area surrounding his apartment was middle class and humble, but the suburbs of Paris served numerous purposes. Their homely surface was a clever cover for the intricate wirings of espionage and underground movements that so eagerly populated the time. These times were worrisome, talk of war in Europe, talk of Turmoil in the West.

In any scenario his mission was clear and his goals set. Develop contacts and gain friends, he would need them if the rumors were true. Furthermore his government would need them, they all would.

He staggered out of bed and walked to the window, drew the curtain back and looked out of his window at the morning skyline. The streets were busy from where he could see and the scenery was gorgeous. The fear that crept up his spine was the growing angst of all the people in the streets, the hurried steps and the scared faces. It was almost like war was upon them and no one had fired a shot, sometimes the masses knew what was coming. Hope would be that they would be wrong, but if they weren’t his role would be pivitol, for all of their sakes.

He turned back to the sleeping redhead in his bed, would be an utter shame to wake her. So he stared for a moment longer to keep a mental image then went into his closet to get dressed. He fixed his coat then opened the door to leave, one last look before he left. He would burn the entire city down for her, but he would never tell her. Out the door he made his way down the stairs past the little boy playing jax on the stairs who called out to him in French, “ Good morning Anderson.”

“It is a good morning Felipe. Tell your father I said hello,” he responded with making sure to articulate his enunciations.

The boy giggled and went back to playing, and Anderson would be late if he didn’t get a move on. The Embassy was a few blocks down the street, and if we was going to go through the dumpster for documents he would need to hurry. The garbage always got picked up early on Thursdays.

Yet again the beauty of Paris was covered over by the tears of the heavens...

Or at least that's what Grazi felt it was.

Were the heavens weeping? A low rumble could still be heard in the distance from the passing storm. But its rain remained, showering everything in Paris. And the Eiffel tower couldn't be seen from his office building. A sad day indeed...

The clouds themselves... Now what were they weeping for? That was the thought that was troubling his mind so much at the moment.

"...Well its not just for me this time..." he whispered to himself bending his head down into his hand to rub his weary eyes...And it was only morning.

A sound came from behind his desk and Grazi spun around to find Laurent, his "butler" of ten years standing behind him peeking through the doorway.

"Sir?"

"Yes Laurent come in, whats the matter?"

"Sir, your 'associate' has made a 'deposit.' He informed me that it might be of some interest to you."

Well that was something Grazi needed to start the day. The use of codes had become second nature to him and his staff due to the constant watchdogging of the Gestapo and OSS.

Surely his home and office were bugged by the Gestapo do to the connections he had with what the Gestapo assumed was the Resistance AND the Vichy. And the OSS were trying to figure out exactly what side of the ball he was supporting... Hard to do that when the ball is contently rolling however.

This scared the Germans greatly... So much so that they had his office and residence bugged two, three, four times over and under strict surveillance. Sadly for them all they were getting an ear of was the local German officers French girlfriends.

A fact many Gestapo surveillance teams left untold... Or they kept the tapes themselves.

Grazi smiled at the thought as he grabbed his jacket quickly, thanked Laurent and marched out the door to his car.

He knew right where the Gestapo men eyeballing him always sat, and the sheer speed in which he came out of the door literally sent the one new guy into a panic. The older gent, who had been there a while literally stomped on his younger colleges foot to keep him in his street-side seat.

The look on his face was priceless...As was what Grazi was about to find out concerning the new "deposit."

The drive was not a far one, but the checkpoints as well as the rubble and destruction acted as their own form of road bumps. Buildings, roads, stores and shops... And then came the wreckage of aircraft and the targets of what they must have been tasked to bomb.

"So this is why you are crying?" Grazi asked as if he expected the answer to be spoken back to him. But of course nothing came, and in reality he didn't need an answer. For it was obvious enough to his own eyes. As well as to the eyes of every Frenchman who passed by.

Nearly two hours later he arrived at Rouen France. He sighed with a heavy heart once again. For nearly half of the city had been destroyed during the Blitzkrieg. The city had set on fire and the French fire-fighters were not allowed by the Germans to extinguish the fire. He was not surprised, but even after four years the rebuilding process had only started in specific places.

Clearly the places where new shops and buildings had been erected were in some way tied to the Germans. Money flows in certain directions... As it always has.

Grazi parked his car directly across the Seine from Notre Dame. Around the corner from what looked like a normal cafe. No sooner had the tires stopped moving and he excited the car had a gentleman wearing the same color coat, hat and pants as he got in and drove off again into the rain.

He smiled as he started his walk towards the direction of the bridge leading to the Rouen Cathedral. Without looking he was handed a croissant sandwhich, which he unwrapped eagerly. This Resistance ship had the best croissants in all of France he swore.

The figure who handed it to him was neck deep in his coat and hat, he clearly did not expect it to rain either today. Grazi smiled once more and let his friend know it.

"What have I told you about the weather in northern France Ram?"

"That it was as unpredictable as the OSS agents you bought off?" responded Ram with a smile of his own.

Ram, although relatively new to the ranks, had moved his way up the chain so quickly that his fervor for details and out of the box thinking had pushed him to the higher ranks.

Grazi chuckled at the thought, "That is true, nothing a little explosives or two beautiful houses in Marseilles couldn't fix."

"The explosives were a nice touch; give them the means to blow up the German V2 test site, make it look like they died in the process...And in turn give them homes in a beautiful location and pay them to do it." Ram smiled now at the thought.

"And... Now they work for you. Use them well Ram... Now what's the deposit?" asked Grazi.

"You just have to see for yourself." smiled Ram once more.

Grazi and Ram entered the Rouen Cathedral, nodded at the clergymen who nodded back. They too knew the reason why Grazi and Ram were here. But they made their way to distract any who might see them.

Entering the confessional they sat on the seat and clicked a small wooden tab below the knee rest and in seconds the entire floor slowly sunk deep into the ground and a new one slide over top of them to take its place. Deeper and deeper they sunk until they were then kneeling before the Tricolor of France.

"That always gets me..." came a voice from the corner of the room they had just fallen into, "...How two cutthroats like yourselves would ever use a church as a place to hide your doings...HA!"

"You never were a religious man Kaz, you should have more faith!" said Ram with a laugh in his voice.

KillerKaz had been with the French armed forces for a long time, and sadly he was now confined to the hidden locations of the French resistance until more suitable paperwork could be forged for his travels. He was a veteran of war, ruthless, and easily entertained...A rather interesting combo considering his figure and face.

"So is someone going to tell me why I came all the way from Paris to here on a rainy day such as this?" questioned Grazi, his sandwhich now gone and he was now eager for something else for his mind to chew on this time around.

All three of them walked into another adjacent room where a doctor and a few French guards were. There they came upon three people who were asleep wearing German uniforms, but these uniforms were tattered and worn. Clearly they had seen the test of time but... How much time?

As Grazi got closer his eyes grew to the size of saucers... The one man, was none other than the former leader of all German forces, Reichsmarshall Goose.

"...Doctor..."

The doctor briefly explained that they were picked up by French supporters between the German and French border while being transported in a supply train to God knows where. They were in Boxes being shipped to what was suppose to be a secret location. They derailed the train, and made off with whatever they could scramble onto a few trucks.

However when the Resistance Men got the crates back to their safe house and opened them, they discovered just these three bodies...Within seconds they all fell asleep and suddenly the people in the boxes were gone.

A few nights later the three showed up at the same house once more and knocked the door down, only to walk in and collapse. The French guards thought they were being raided and in a panic clubbed the German uniformed figures to what they assumed was death. Clearly however that was not the case.

Quickly they were delivered here during the cover of darkness and for five days they had not moved. It would be hard to hide the Reichsmarshall's face considering what had just happened to him nearly a world away. Or so it felt...Especially now.

"Are they alive?" asked Ram with a fearful expression on his face.

"They aren't zombies are they?!?" yelled Kaz who then drew a pistol from God knows where.

"NO NO NO!" Motioned the doctor who clearly did not see that Kaz had a huge smile on his face and was simply trying to get a rise out of him.

"Kaz...Be good..." pointed Grazi, "...If worse comes to worse you can shoot them...again...Later. So doctor, you said they have been out for five days?"

The streets were a mess this morning, one carriage had even tipped over spilling fresh bread all over the roadway. Ruined at this point, Anderson picked up a loaf that hadn’t quite touched the ground and scrambled down an alley adjacent to get past the crowd. He made his way behind a few shops before hitting the intersection before his goal Avenue du Diplomatie, French meaning Diplomacy Avenue. It was the street that the nation’s embassies were built on. His targets for the day were Belgium, Germany, and America. He would be curious to see if anything worthwhile turned up. He dashed into an abandoned store that he had staked out weeks ago and donned some attire. He remerged looking more like a beggar than the finely dressed man prior. He then walked around with the loaf of bread under one arm, and dashed down another alley adjacent the Belgium Embassy. The dumpster would be full and he would want to see what wonderful things the Belgium emissaries joked or wrote about this past week. He found what he was looking for, a Fire escape that was loose and with a pole conveniently left there he jimmied the ladder loose. It swung down and hit the ground. After climbing to the first floor, he climbed over the rail and hung towards the Embassy wall. He leaped landing on it, catching himself on the light post that sat atop. Into the embassy he then jumped and next to where the garbage shoot was.

“Lucky day,” he said.

The garbage had not been taken, and in he dove. An hour later he was scaling the wall leaving with about a dozen or so sheets of paper. The alley being clear he jumped back down and stuffed the documents into his coat and headed down the alley back towards the intersection. His caution kept him alive every time he stuck out into these environments, and only had been caught once. French law prohibited espionage and jail in France wasn’t a pretty thing. Especially for a foreigner, his life would either end horribly or he would live out his days in the Bastille.

The coast was clear as he dodged back down the road to the abandoned store; inside he walked towards the back room and down the stairs to the basement. Inside the basement a candle was lit with a desk and some stacks of papers. He left his find there and headed back out. The American Embassy was easy, there was a manhole in the center towards the rear of the building next to the dumpster. The German embassy was rather difficult. You had to wait till night fall for that one, and then the real fun began. However the Germans would shoot him if they caught him, they really didn’t like trespassers. Anderson walked back down towards his store and down into his basement again and went about reading the papers.
“Garbage, utter garbage,” he said.

Little value seemed in his documents, a bad find it seemed. Then while sifting through the American documents he encountered a threat. This threat or “red herring” report was someone claiming to be inside the German inner ministry. This of course always gets read, reported then thrown out. This was much to Anderson’s benefit. He found the postage code that it emanated from, and then would just have to track down where it was mailed from. Then he would find out just how deep that rabbit hole went. The Belgium documents were pathetic, if they are attacked he hopes someone puts them out of his misery soon, they were rather obnoxious. He pulled his pocket watch out, and noted the time. Half past ten, he was going to be late.

Running to where he had stored his close he doused himself in cologne and re-dressed into his formal attire from before. Up the stairs and out the back door of the abandoned store, he tore down the back alley towards the intersection and down the street towards the large luminous building two blocks down and to the right. The Gate read “French Foreign Ministry” the guard asked him for his papers, he showed as he tried to get passed, “Jean, how many times will you ask me my papers as if you don’t know me already?”
“Until you stop being late my friend,” Jean chuckled.

“Your wife is good yes?”

“She is fine, getting more and more pregnant every day, I think she will explode!”

“Well send her my love, I am late as you can see, so can I go? Or will you shoot me?”

Jean waved him on, and down towards the service entrance Anderson flew. Sweat rolled down his brow as he entered the door and closed it behind him. Standing in the entrance was a heavy man with a large fat neck, he was tapping his foot. Anderson knew right away there would be no escaping this tardiness, this job was important and he could not lose it. It would ruin his mission and jeopardize everything he had been working towards. “What time is it Monsieur Phillips?”

“..The guard held you up I saw, but you should be earlier. How will you ever amount to anything of any REAL importance if you’re not on time,” he sneered.

“You are right as always, I will work harder.”

Anderson thought for a moment at how significant he actually was, and what this imbecil would do had he known. Maybe one day for no other reason he would put a bullet right into his head and ask him how much he mattered then? Anderson walked by his shift manager Eric Lacroix and down the hall towards his station. He took off his coat and put on his tie. Straightening his vest he drapped a white serving towel over his arm and walked into the kitchen where a silver tray sat with steaming water in a pitcher in the center. Tea was served at 11:00 sharply otherwise Master Ferdinand would be cross. Anderson entered into the study where his ultimate master sat, and Ferdinand eyed him a moment and then the clock. “Late again,” he said with a dry smirk.

Anderson nodded and then proceeded to set the tray on the table, and waited for the older Foreign Minister Advisor to gesture him pour. He nodded then drew out his paper and began to read. Anderson had practiced night after night for weeks to prefect a simple tea pour, and proper etiquette. It’s easy to fake training papers not to fake technique. Ferdinand let him finish before he looked at him, “ Are you married yet? When are you going to ask that girl you keep going on and on about,” his quest a knife through the tension.

“Monsieur if I married her, I would be much more late on a more daily basis and not just once in a great while,” Anderson replied, he couldn’t hold the smirk back.

Ferdinand erupted into laughter that echoed down the hall, it was no secret that Master Ferdinand liked Anderson and even the darkest sin seemed only to go noticed a moment before they joked. Anderson bowed, and left the room heading back towards the hall way and his station. In the Ferdinand’s laughter he didn’t see Anderson scan his notes on his desk, a bonus to serving tea near the large dusty thing was the full view. ‘Apparently the French are worried about the Germans, shocking,’ Anderson Thought. He would finish his shift and then try the German embassy for anything that could possibly signal this “red herring” being factual or a ruse. If it were a leak, then the Germans would have to find it and plug it before any seriously detrimental information got out. Anderson planned to get there first, and see what he could do about it. The squealer would die in the end regardless, no loose ends.

The Battle of France was bitter last summer, but in the end the german forces where pushed back to the Fatherland.

Last October the battle for berlin was fought. We where attacked on both sides of the city by the allied forces. But with great leadership, the germans pushed hard and the allies where not able to destroy the german army. The great leadership that we speak of was from the house of hohenzollern, or a command faction they created named the ODL... At the head of this command, was The Count's beloved niece Mistress Killer, or Vicki as I called her, and the newest member of the house and Vicki's X.O./ hubbie Crapgame, or Mikey as we call him. Also aboard was the x.o. of the former GWC was Joe of the most loyal german military organization, Pocket Aces..
You might ask, wasn't Reichmarshall Goose the leader of this great defense. Sadly no.. It was determined last summer that Goose was not acting normal during the ION battle.. All he talked about was France, which isn't a bad thing since we here at the GDC strive to make the relations between the French and Germans a beneficial relationship. So the GDC issued a research to the great german scientific community.. In there findings, they learned that the mad scientist Dr. Dimentia made an evil clone of Goose, and this clone was in charge of the defense of France. So where was the real Goose someone asks? Our research team also discovered that the real goose was hiding in the ruins of Paris hoping no one would find out about the switch.. To the former Reichmarshall amazement it did work until his unfortunate demise we thought. At the german pep rally for the upcoming battle of berlin this past October, the GDC as well as the ODL wanted to detain and remove this fake Reichmarshall Goose or so we thought. But before he could be detained, one single shot took the fake reichmarshall down or so we thought. TO our astonishment it was the real Goose they had mortally wounded. We did not pull the trigger, all the germans wanted to do was question him. But who did really pull the trigger is the question? I feel it was that Anderson guy I have been hearing so much about in the diplomatic community...

After our triumphant victory at Berlin.. The real reichmarshall was mortally wounded and did not have much time left. So per Goose's last request he wanted to see his one true love one last time. With the new regime permission he was transported discretly by truck in a casket, along with some of his personal security to France to see his one true love Grazianna. Grazianna you ask? To the ODL's amazement, Goose had fallen for the General Grazi's identical twin sister Grazianna...But during the transport the truck which was carrying him was attacked and we believe the resistance now has him and his personal security. It has not been determined if the former Reichmarshall is still alive?

"This is all going to be behind me very soon", Ralph Dimlott thought to himself, "And it can't happen soon enough!" He was giddy with adrenaline and anxiety as he walked back and forth in the dark back-alley doorway. The rain added to the gloom and the water slowly streaming over the paving stones had a slick oily rainbow-sheen to it.

The alley ran along the rear of several embassies located in Paris. The main entrances on the opposite side were well kept, neat, and official looking. The backs of the buildings were much less formal and somewhat neglected. Garbage overflowed bins waiting to be emptied and rats were plentiful. As Ralph was looking nervously towards the end of the alley where it reached the street he heard a dull 'bong' sound coming from a nearby trash bin. His head snapped towards the sound and then he stood absolutely still barely able to see the bin in the gloom.

"Maybe the sound was the garbage shifting. Maybe it was a rat in there... or a waif scrounging for something to eat". Dimlott told himself. "Or maybe it's an assassin and this is a setup!" his paranoid mind screamed at him. "I should have known never to trust Eldon!"

Ralph turned towards the street and started to move when a pair of headlights turned into the ally totally blinding him. The vehicle advanced very slowly as he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. Dimlott's legs pumped non-stop as he vigorously swung his arms and high-stepped out of there.

"Where to go?", his mind screamed. His dress shoes clacked off of the cobble stones in a staccato beat that abruptly ended when he reached the smooth twelve foot wall at the end of the alley. Ralph spun with his back to it expecting to see the assassin from the trash bin about to assault him but no one was there. The headlights were still rolling down the wet pavers toward Dimlott.

The reporter could only stand there with his chest heaving, his heart racing, and his nerves vibrating as he was being pelted by the rain. The car kept coming towards him at an agonizingly slow pace. The only way Ralph could tell it was moving was because the shadows from the garbage piles were were slowly sliding back towards themselves as the car came closer. The headlights were powerful and the correspondent had to shield his eyes with his hand when the car came to a stop twenty-five feet away.

For a full minute the only sounds were the rain, the windshield wipers and Ralph's heart. Then the driver's door opened and a silhouette in a livery uniform got out. He pointed something long he was holding in his hands at Dimlott and then pointed it straight up into the sky and opened the umbrella with a brisk "pop". Ralph jumped with the sound of it and almost wet himself.

The driver stepped to the rear door and held it open as someone got out. Ralph knew who it was without having to see his face. It was the man he was waiting for - A. Eldon Tyrell. The chauffeur held the umbrella over the international business man's head. A cloud of cigar smoke billowed up into the umbrella and then spilled out over the edges.

"I'm here for closure, Mr. Dimlott", he said as he stood there casually in his tuxedo. "Please step this way", he continued as he gestured to the rear of the Rolls Royce. Ralph released a sound that was half exhale and half cough and stepped slowly towards the vehicle. With rain streaming down his face he reached the totally dry Eldon Tyrell at the back of the car.

Tyrell nodded to the driver and the man opened the trunk. Dimlott looked down in a panic to see warthog6 bound, gagged, and severely beaten on the floor of the compartment. But then his brain registered what his eyes were really looking at and saw a very large crate instead. Eldon again nodded to the driver and he removed the crate's top. The gleam of the trunk light off of the large array of gold bars mesmerized Ralph. He could hear a chorus of angels singing in his greedy rapture.

Eldon snapped his fingers and the driver closed the crate and the trunk. "Please join us in the Rolls Royce, Mr. Dimlott", Tyrell said graciously. The chauffeur held the door for the reporter and Ralph sat on a large bench seat that mimicked those found in limousines. As Tyrell settled into his seat Dimlott and DEADPOOL both realized at the same time they were sitting across from each other. "You *&^%$>~#@%^$* they simultaneously barked out. Eldon restrained DEADPOOL and Pope Mario grabbed Ralph.

"Settle down boys!", Eldon said with a chuckle. Then he got stern and pointed at DEADPOOL and said "You're on company time and you will stand down." Then he pointed at Ralph and said "You're getting paid and escorted out of Paris so you stand down". Then he pressed a button on a console and a compartment containing scotch and cigars opened.

"Gentlemen, I always do this when I close a deal. It's a long ride out of Paris and I'm sure Mr. Dimlott, being of German persuasion, wants to take his...profits... and get out of the "war zone".

"Damn straight", Ralph said as Eldon lit his cigar for him. Then he looked at the Pope and nodded at him with his chin and said "So what's his story?".

"Imma goinga to teller yoo later, heathen". the Pope said and then folded his arms across his chest and exaggeratedly turned his head as far away from Dimlott as he could.

Ralph looked up at DEADPOOL and was about to ask "What's his proplem?", when he realized the guy's restraint was so strained he looked like he was having a seizure.

"Scotch?" Eldon asked offering a tumbler to the reporter.

"Seeing as how cozy this ride's going to be I think I will".

"A deal is a deal, Mr. Dimlott. And I always get closure".

Ralph sampled the whiskey and as it made it's way to his gullet and his gold made it's way out of France he began to relax. The other riders all made eye contact with each other over their drinks....

....bren......brand...brandy....BRANDY! The disheveled Goose shot to his feet like a missile.

BRANDY WHERE IS MY DEMY? WHERE AM I? WHY IS THE...................

Just as fast as he rose he crumples to the floor like a rag doll.

Confused, Grazi mumbles Brandy? The drink...as Donnie mumbles "No, Brandy was his assistant. She..she died during a raid protecting a Jewish family 3 years ago" Donnie continued to muster some strength and elaborate on how Brandy had been with his family since they both were very young and she was the last of anyone he considered family. She introduced him to Demy and they hit it off immediately. So fiercely that it scared him so he sent her away to work on finding the Die Glocke, which he felt would be an endless task. Professing he would marry her if she found it for him....what he didn't take into consideration was that she fell even harder.

At this moment Demy opened her eyes and and sharply snapped at Donnie "Know your place fool, always late on tasks but early on tales". Her eyes were different than before noted Chester...they're blood red he noticed. WHY AM I NAKED, demanded Demy as Grazi's "men" began to tremble they proclaimed that she was soaked and they were trying to warm her up. HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN HERE, she asked brutally.....5 days answered poor poor Jones. Pulling a blade from god knows where she removed his head...Grazi exclaims "We're going to need another Jones I guess. Now get her some clothes, in fact give her yours...slowly". WHERE IS MY...as her eyes see her Goose on the floor..FOOLS HELP HIM UP NOW HE'S ILL.

Grazi and his Jones-less crew help Goose up just as consciousness returns to him. Demy, my dear, where are we.. What happened to me? The bell...it worked I take it??? This is when Grazi steps in "Reichsmarschall, please lay down you need your rest now". I'LL REST WHEN I AM DEAD, proclaims Goose as he twists his head near sideways. Demy speaks up "But my dearest we are dead I believe, and I think one of these French men have soiled themselves severely".

But..but.but I was just having a lovely conversation with Brandy. Where is she? She'll know what to do Demy. Please can you get her for me, asked Goose

My dear she's not been with us for 3 years, it must have been a dream.

NO, she was just here. She pulled me to the ground to tell me something. She told me who tried to kill me...She told me that bastard Von Lingen was a traitor to both me and the Reich. Maybe even death can't stop her from protecting me. Maybe I need to visit my old friend soon. For now though we are in Grazi's charge and since he saved us we owe him a debt, a debt of our lives. Since that my be long for us I say for his life. Grazi is this sufficient for you, asked Goose

Reichsmarscalll, Grazi says with a HUGE smile, that is perfect. We need to code you all though. Your names are to well known in these parts. Do you have a favorite book character or a name in mind? Good gosh its nearly 6pm we're late we're late for a very important dinner date.

At this point Goose just smiled and states"Call me the Hatter, the Mad Hatter! You just reminded me of the Carroll story my mother read to Brandy and I. Demy you're my Queen, my Queen of Hearts and Donnie you've always been a nervous little evil one...so White Rabbit. If only Chester my cook was here he would so be the Cat, always high and full of weird wisdom on games and what not. Now Grazi go to your dinner, we need to head to Belgium to pick a few things up. Meet me in Lille in a week with 100 men with weapons. I wish to train them if you will allow me. I wish to defend France with you. My contacts within the Allied Army will be pleased to hear my voice.....

Grazi still smiling ear to ear skips to his jeep almost singing.."Somebodies gonna get their *** beat"

Driving over to the meeting all Eldon would say is that he had some unfinished business to take care of. Probably because he knew if he said he was meeting with Dimlott, I would have shot the bastard the first chance I got.

When we reached the rendezvous point Eldon got out of the car with Travis and Big John and told me sit in the car quietly. A few moments later I saw Dimlott's shadowy figure heading towards the limousine. I pulled out out my MAB cocked it and prepared to jump out and put a bullet into Dimlott's skull. Unfortunately, Eldon had taken precautions to make sure Travis and Big John were standing right outside the doors blocking any attempt of mine to exit the limousine. So I reholstered the MAB and sat there in disgust wondering why Eldon would be meeting with Dimlott. For all Dimlott did was print lies about us.

I watched as Eldon and Ralph headed towards the back of the Limousine. They stood there for a few moments talking and then starting walking toward the side of the car. Eldon got in the limousine followed b Dimlott. As soon as I saw Ralph I lost it. I screamed "You *@#$%*!!$##" and lunged at Dimlott.

However, before I could lay a hand on Dimlott Eldon grabbed me. He then told Dimlott and and I to settle down and said to me "You're on company time and you will stand down." I knew that meant listen or else you can find yourself "Unemployed"

I treid to calm down but it was to no avail. I was so enveloped with rage that I did not even notice when the car started moving again. Snapping back to reality I see Eldon hand Ralph a snifter of scotch. Not just any scotch but Eldon's personal 12 year old scotch. He never shares that with anyone let alone a low life like Ralph. I wondered "What the hell could Ralph have on Eldon, that he would pay him off and let him sample his scotch?".

I knew I would have to get to the bottom of this and I would. Eldon wasn't the only one who had contacts in Europe. Alas, for now I would just have to sit quietly as we headed to Paris. This wasn't going to be an easy ride.

__________________Tyrell-Putting the WTF back in paintballClose to Perfect, Not Quite Normal

Reichmarshall Goose contacted me (Demonica Heart) to start looking into scientific theory of life and death. At first I was skeptic didn’t understand the difference. My thoughts where once you die your soul just moves on. But after hours, weeks, and months my own theories went out the window. I and my assistance (Donald Darkov) found that there was a Die Glocke. This Bell could change the way everyone looks at death. Die Glocke is made out of a hard, heavy metal about 9 feet wide and 12 to 15 feet high having a shape similar to that of a large bell. After a period of time I figured out the bell device ostensibly contained two counter-rotating cylinders which would be "filled with a mercury-like substance, violet in color. This metallic liquid was code-named "Xerum 525" and was otherwise cautiously "stored in a tall thin thermos flask a meter high encased in lead".[6] Additional substances employed in the experiments, referred to as Leichtmetall (light metal), "included thorium and beryllium peroxidesis. If you ring This Die Glocke in the presents of a dead body it will allow this sole to come back to earth. Mr. Darkov didn’t agree. He felt that this means of power was not meant to be used by anyone that is why it was hidden.
While all the studies where going on a Battle was starting The Battle of Berlin. I haven’t heard from Goose in a few weeks and was started to get scared. I wanted to tell him the good news that I found the secret to the Bell and that we have it in are lab.
All of a sudden the door flies open. General Grazi and his loyal men came into my lab. General Grazi with his head down low said “I’m so sorry”. I started to scream. What is going on where is Goose? Then a man came down the hallway holding Goose in his arms. General Grazi looked at me with tears in his eyes. We don’t know who did it! But we will find out. But right know he needs his men to help him. I yelled at the guy holding Goose in his arms to put him in the cage and screamed for all the men to leave my Lab. (I know what I had to do at this point). As I’m holding the bars on the cage I scream at Goose “Come back to me”. Donald yelled don’t do it you don’t know the power it has. But it was too late
BONGGGG BOONNGG BOONNGGG
I and Donald fell to the floor. As lighting struck, ground started to shack.
My body and mind couldn’t understand. I feel like me but not like the others. What is going on??? I look for Donald and Goose. Both just starting to wake up. With their backs towards me I scream “Donald-Goose”. They both turn around and what do I see. Not Donald nor Goose but a new……………………………………..

The only sound that could now be heard in the small damp room was the tiny spurts of blood coming from the lifeless corps of Dr. Julian. Ram stood besides the corpse looking down on it, without the slightest change of expression from the previous moment.

"...Well that was unexpected."

He, along with Grazi and Kaz looked at the bodies of the three "individuals" and still were at a lose as to what to do.

For some reason they were speaking, in a garbled fashion but speaking none the less. What was strange was that their tone of voice changed back and forth as if they were acting out what numerous people were saying.

"Who's Jones? How does he know your name by the way Grazi? And who is Brandy?" asked the now more confused Kaz.

"Well Goose should know who we are, we've been at them for how many years now here in Fance." mentioned Grazi. "They don't forget something like that quite easily...Remember the brothel?"

Kaz smiled at the thought, "That was the biggest boom we setup in a long time. HA! The look on their faces was perfect before we blew them...How do the Americans say it? 'Sky High?'...Yes that was rather entertaining."

"They are even speaking to eachother... And how did the girl kill the Doc while like that?" Ram was now watching as the scared French men picked up the lifeless corps and moved it from the premesis.

Running his head through his hair and then putting his head in his hands he thought about the possiblities. Reichsmarshall Goose was shot dead months ago in Russia. By whom he wasn't 100% sure...Yet. And now here he was with two other people in some sort of strange comma like state spouting off information and stranger yet rhymes and riddles.

Their eyes were flickering from open to closed at great speed as if possessed. And still they continued to murmur names and changed their tone.

"Ok..." asked Kaz finally "Someone please explain to me what they are going on about."

Grazi unearthed his head from his hands...

"Well...here is what I am getting out of this. It sounds as if the obvious thing is that all three of these people have been through a lot. So much so that it has messed with their psyche in a lot of ways. I mean listen to them, they are speaking as if they are having full conversations with people who are in this room and in some cases with people who are not..."

Grazi poked the Reichsmarshall to no avil. But he did hear something that interested him...

Goose, eyes still fluttering faster then ever began to speak in more controlled tone:

"Call me the Hatter, the Mad Hatter! You just reminded me of the Carroll story my mother read to Brandy and I. Demy you're my Queen, my Queen of Hearts and Donnie you've always been a nervous little evil one...so White Rabbit. If only Chester my cook was here he would so be the Cat, always high and full of weird wisdom on games and what not. Now Grazi go to your dinner, we need to head to Belgium to pick a few things up. Meet me in Lille in a week with 100 men with weapons. I wish to train them if you will allow me. I wish to defend France with you. My contacts within the Allied Army will be pleased to hear my voice....."

Grazi, Ram, and Kaz at this point all took a step back at this point.

"...And can you explain how he knows your plans to go to 'dinner' tonight." motioned Ram.

"Yeah I can't explain that one..." followed Grazi, "He did have a lot of info on us. But its not like he's A. going anywhere, and B. he's not really in command anymore... What scares me is this bell thing they are all talking about... 'Bring back from the dead.'... Hitler would look into something like that..."

This had to stop now...

Ram leaned against the neerest wall geting out a cigerette. "Ok, we'll worry about that later. But what about this Alice in Wonderland stuff. I mean look at Kaz."

Kaz was fiddeling with his pistol, cocking and uncocking the hammer, clearly weirded out by what paranormal crap was going on in front of him.

"Can't I just shoot them?!"

Grazi shook his head in disagreement.

"No... There is clearly something going on here, and it migh be benefical to us to find out. It sounds like they want to help us, believe it or not. Think about the information they possess on German troop movements. This just gives us more leverage to 1. Stay alive and hurt the Germans, and 2. To have another chip against the Allies when they come ashore."

Kaz was still not happy with this...

"What about this Alice in Wonderland stuff... What is going on there."

This was not going to be the responce Kaz wanted to hear but here it went:

"I think they are both of those entities...Both Goose and Mad Hatter...And some of those things they are describing, might just be real."

"..........." Ram's cigerette dropped from his mouth, "Great....So who are we 'speaking with' now? The Hatter or Goose?"

Now things were going to get entertaining Grazi knew.

"I think its time we talked to Goose..." grazi suffled over to the corner of the room and picked up a nearby bucket of water...Which he then dumped on Goose/mad Hatters head.

Nothing happened.

With that Grazi slapped Goose...

"Oh FELDMarshahell, its time to wake up!"

Almost instently the eyes opened compeltly and, for the first time in years the long old enemies were now face to face...